No.

This wasn't happening.

This couldn't be happening. Not to them. Not after everything they and their friends had already been through over the years. He wanted to pinch himself so badly, his fingertips actually itched; but he didn't. He couldn't handle the possibility that what he was seeing could be real.

The video had arrived in an innocent enough manner: in a bag of fan mail, coincidentally. It had been delivered to the dorm by the usual company employee, at the usual time; nothing suspicious at all. He and Seungri, the only ones in the flat at the time, had begun to sort everything into piles, cracking jokes about the colors of some envelopes and sometimes exaggerating a strong scent that had been spritzed on the paper.

Things continued in that manner, lighthearted and fun, until the youngest came across a box wrapped in plain brown paper, labeled 'BIGBANG' with no return address. Seungri examined it for a few moments, turning it over and over in his hands with an expression of confusion stamped across his soft features. He was quiet long enough to catch his hyung's attention and curiosity.

“What is that, Seungri-yah?” The older boy abandoned his sorting, crawling around the bag of mail and the piles they were making for each band member. Seungri had been laying on the floor with his feet resting on the couch, across from his hyung. At the inquiry, he righted himself, tucking his feet beneath him as he continued to examine the package.

“I'm not sure, hyung,” his dark eyes darted to the side for a moment, taking in the elder’s equally puzzled expression, then returning to the object in his hands. “It's not addressed to any of us specifically, it just says BIGBANG,” that was something that struck the young man as strange. Unusual enough to catch his attention and make him pause.

It was very rarely that something ever showed up in their mail that was for all of them, but that kind of package was usually much larger and came from some clothing brand that wanted to sponsor them. Those packages usually also had some kind of brand logo stamped everywhere. Seungri felt apprehensive about the inconspicuous box staring him threateningly in the face.

He wanted it to disappear.

It apparently inspired the same feeling in his older band mate, who stared it it as if it were a double-headed, poisonous snake. “Open it,” the elder boy whispered, the atmosphere becoming tense as he sat on his hands, both boys' dark eyes trained on the menacing brown thing. The youngest hesitated, seriously not wanting to know what was inside, he nibbled the corner of his lip.

“Shouldn't we wait for the others?” Seungri was obviously trying to stall, his reluctance evidenced in the way sweat suddenly beaded on his forehead, threatening to roll down his temples. The package seemed to whisper only bad news and ill intentions, inconspicuous as it was.

“They won't be back until later,” the older voiced what they both knew. “Youngbae is working on something with Teddy-hyung, Daesung has a meeting with Yang CEO about album ideas, and Seunghyun is probably asleep at the villa,” it was almost creepy, sometimes, how Jiyong always knew where each of the band members were at any given time.

TOP was, of course, the only one who knew that the paranoid leader got copies of their daily schedules sent to his cell phone from each of their individual managers. Just because.

Seungri's shoulder's drooped and he released a soft breath. “OK,” his voice was comfortingly steady and Jiyong watched the younger's hands as they slowly removed the brown paper and tape to reveal a regular shipping box. It was about 10 inches long, 5 inches wide, and 3 inches deep, and still there was nothing threatening about it but both instinctively drew back.

An unexplainable sense of impending doom dropped on their shoulders.

“Hyung,” Seungri's soft voice pulled Jiyong's gaze away from the box and he studied the youngster's pale features with concern. “Is it weird to say I'm scared and that I wish the others were here?” The leader didn't find it weird at all, since he was feeling exactly the same, so he shook his head and scooted closer to the maknae. They were then sitting side by side, close enough to provide comfort for each other in the pressing silence of the dorm.

Feeling marginally reassured with the knowledge that fearless Kwon Leadah was uneasy as well, Seungri pried the flaps of the box apart. They easily separated to reveal copious amounts of what seemed to be shredded paper. An even more confused frown appeared on his face, which he found mirrored on Jiyong's when he glanced over.

One of the leader's hands, sans his usual jewelry, reached in to pluck one strip of woven fiber between his fingers. Something had caught his attention and he examined the paper closely.

The situation took a turn for the truly bizarre when he realized his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. Printed on the paper, in bright yellow ink, was the word 'ENJOY', followed by an obnoxious smiley face. Both the word and face repeated over and over on every strip they could see. It was ridiculous and a sharp contrast to the almost irrational feeling of anxiety this package had inspired in them when it was first discovered.

Depressingly enough, it didn't make either of them feel any better; in fact, they both felt even worse.

Emitting a sigh of his own, Jiyong dug his hand into the box and wrapped his fingers around the paper, pulling it out to be deposited on the floor. It only took a few handfuls, and then the box was empty except for a pink plastic CD case, the shiny disc inside covered in more smiley faces. Seungri reached in and fished it out, holding the plastic between his thumb and forefinger. As if the inanimate object could physically harm him if handled wrong.

Scattered in with the annoying smiley faces were the words 'Watch Me', running in every direction possible.

They didn't want to watch the disc. It contained only bad news and both young men knew it, but they had made it this far unscathed so they almost had no choice but to continue. Something told Jiyong that not watching the DVD would make bad news even worse news. So he watched the band's youngest stand and go to their TV.

Popping open the pink case, Seungri plucked the disc out, turning on the DVD player and inserting the shiny flat circle. Then he grabbed the universal remote and scurried back to the leader's side, wordlessly handing Jiyong the remote.

Gulping, Jiyong pressed the power button for the TV to start it up. Once the screen flickered on, the DVD's menu glared at them from its wide depths, all awful yellow background and dark purple font. The only option was 'Play', and the leader hit the selection while something vile and unpleasant crawled its way up the back of his throat.

On the screen, everything was white, though it was obvious the camera lens was facing a wall. They could clearly see the close-up texture of the plaster. The camera shook, and the image seemed to slowly zoom out to reveal a completely white room with no windows and only a steel door as entrance. That was only revealed because the camera person followed each side of the room in obnoxious slow motion, before focusing on the center of the small space.

There, bolted to the clinically white floor, was a metal restraining chair, with thick leather bands and cuffs located strategically to bind chest, biceps, wrists, thighs and ankles. There was clearly no way for a person to escape its embrace.

The chair itself wasn't what jerked dual gasps of dismay from both young men, no. What caused their alarm was the man currently in the appalling chair.

Firmly strapped into the sham of a seat was Seunghyun. Their Seunghyun. The one who was supposed to be comfortably slumbering in the safety of his villa. He was blindfolded, the strip of black fabric noticeably thick, yet still wound around their friend's head a few times. That was the point at which Jiyong started to try and convince himself he was having a nightmare. That the images flooding his optical lenses couldn't be true.

“Hyung?” Seungri's voice was muted and uncertain. Afraid. “Is this real?” The younger had likewise been trying to convince his mind that what he was seeing was either a hallucination, or maybe an old publicity stunt cooked up by Yang CEO. Except both hypotheses were shot dead by Seunghyun's clothes: white button-up, soft gray sweater, blue jeans, and his favorite red Converse.

The same outfit they had last seen him in, that morning. Their friend seemed to be unconscious, his head tilted forward as much as his restraints would allow.

Before Jiyong could attempt to answer the question, Seunghyun stirred, beginning to regain consciousness. The camera began to circle their friend, documenting the waking progress, including the moment he realized something was amiss with his current situation.

Seungri and Jiyong, helpless in their living room, could only watch as their elder's body jerked once, fingers curling around the wood under his palms as he tried to move his arms and legs. He was strangely and uncharacteristically silent.

“Welcome back to the waking world, Seunghyun-sshi,” the addressed rapper abruptly spun his head in the direction of the voice, his face in full view of the camera, they could see his lips pressed into a thin line. The camera circled behind him. “No greeting for me? I'm hurt,” Seunghyun's head snapped in the opposite direction, tracking the movements of his captor whose voice was obviously male but so ordinary it was forgettable.

A hand reached out from behind the camera, long- but noticeably pudgy at the same time, momentarily coming in contact with their friend's smooth cheek. Jiyong felt his blood boil in his veins at that, and a thrill of smug satisfaction curled in his chest when Seunghyun wrenched his head violently away. The man holding the camera, on the other hand, was not pleased and tightly seized the rapper's jaw with his weird fingers, forcing his head back towards himself.

“Now that just will not do. Can't have you being uncooperative so early in our . . . engagement,” the man chuckled at his choice of words, finally releasing his captive's face and backing away to resume his circling. “I must say, I'm impressed you're so calm, Seunghyun-sshi,” once again, the camera was directly in front of their friend. “I expected you to either be terrified and begging to be let go, or pissed off and demanding the same,” an amused chuckle followed the declaration.

Seunghyun still didn't utter a word, but Jiyong noticed his jaw muscles flexing, the way they usually did when his boyfriend was thinking intently about something. That forgettable voice interrupted his observations, sounding fairly put-out at the rapper's limited response to him and nonexistent verbal acknowledgment.

“Aren't you even curious about why I brought you here?” The question was essentially a whine, which caused Jiyong to exchange a questioning glance with Seungri, whose expression mirrored his own. “Don't you want to know what I'm gonna do to you?” What kind of kidnapper whined at his captive for not being afraid?

“. . . No.” At last, Seunghyun's low voice responded to the man's griping, rumbling easily in his throat. Unexpectedly, the camera jerked, a confusing smear of their friend's image the only evidence of the man swiftly stepping closer. This time, those pudgy fingers wrapped themselves around the rapper's fragile neck, digging mercilessly into the soft skin. Even then, there was practically no reaction.

Jiyong got the impression the lanky rapper was planning something but couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what that could be. His attention returned to the distressing events in the screen.

“You shouldn't anger me more than you already have, Seunghyun-sshi,” something in the voice's tone had changed, turning it from petulant to menacing. Dangerous. Their friend's eyebrows twitched, a hint of surprise registering in a brief parting of his lips. His features smoothed out in the next second though, his captor apparently not noticing the minute expression. “Even if you don't want to know, I'm going to answer both questions,” the man continued, his voice becoming smug. “Since you're never leaving this room again.”

No ing way. Who was this guy, to say something like that? Why would he want to keep someone locked up and strapped down so obviously against their will? And why in all blazes would he mail off a movie with these details to the people most likely to start a man-hunt? These questions and more made a confusing cacophony in Jiyong's mind, but he quieted it to concentrate on the video again.

“You're here, Seunghyun-sshi, because you are a goddamned tease,” a manic inflection entered the man's voice, making him more intimidating than he had previously been. “You lead your fans on, and then crush their dreams with no compassion, rejecting every last one when they confess their love for you,” it was apparent the man spoke from experience. He was a fan?! He'd confessed to Seunghyun? Both young men racked their brains, trying to remember any incident involving a male fan with long pudgy fingers. None came to mind.

“Now that I finally have you here, I'll make sure you can't do that anymore,” the camera tilted down, following those weird fingers as they ran up the back of the rapper's hand, a chuckle registering when his more delicate fingers clenched around wood again. Once they reached the edge of the cuff around his wrist, they began to walk up his arm, back in the direction of his face, stopping at the bend of his elbow to caress the area through the material covering it. The camera followed the movement closely.

“First, I'll have to make sure that you can't snare any more helpless victims, and your most potent bait, I'm afraid, is gonna have to be . . . disabled,” he didn't have to come out and say what he considered Seunghyun's 'most potent bait', the weird fingers having traveled over bicep, across shoulder, and up his slender throat to hover over the rapper's face. They softly grazed the material covering their friend's eyes.

Jiyong and Seungri were frozen. Almost unable to breathe. This absolutely had to be a nightmare. There wasn't really someone out there insane enough to do something as horrifying as what this man was implying, right? Right? The leader felt his heart trying to beat itself out of his chest, a terror he never knew he had arranging and re-arranging the pixels of the dorm's TV. He wanted to cry.

“When you can't tempt innocent bystanders anymore, I'll guarantee you'll never reject another person in your life,” the hand slid back down, tracing patterns over Seunghyun's vocal chords. “By the time I'm done with you, Seunghyun-sshi, you'll be both blind and mute. Isn't it marvelous!?” Again, that distressingly manic undertone made an appearance, and a brief expression of fear flickered over the visible parts of their friend's face for a short moment.

“Not just yet though,” the creepy hand pulled back, disappearing from view. “I have somewhere to be in a few minutes, and I need to make sure your friends aren't gonna try to find you,” there was a strange, disjointed giggle. “In case you're wondering: I'm filming this, and I'm going to send the video to your band so they know not to come looking. I'll be back in a few hours!” The camera shifted up and away from Seunghyun, catching view of a round face topped by abnormally short black hair before the screen went blank.

That was it. They were back to the menu screen. There were no clues. No further indication of where their beloved, childish friend could be. No way to know if he was even still alive.

Jiyong finally broke down, hiccuping as the first tears began to fall. Seunghyun, his Seunghyun, had been kidnapped. He either had been, or would be, irreversibly damaged. His kidnapper was going to take his beautiful voice and his gorgeous eyes. It would break the tall baby's spirit. It would kill him. The leader buried his face in his hands and curled in on himself, sobbing quietly.

Seungri wrapped his arms around the bowed shoulders, trying to comfort his friend even though he knew there wasn't anything he could do. Tears of despair and frustration were silently coursing down his cheeks as well, one of his best friends, the boyfriend of another of his best friends, was kidnapped. He didn't know what to do.

They were still in the same position when Youngbae and Daesung returned to the dorm, having finished their schedules much earlier than anticipated. The sight alarmed both singers, and they worriedly hovered over the boys.

“Seungri-yah, what's going on?” Daesung's soft voice was the first to break the silence, but the youngest was incapable of answering. There was absolutely no way he'd be able to recount what he and Jiyong had seen that had affected them in such a way. So he only pointed at the television, indicating that the two needed to watch what they had.

It was even worse the second time around, and Jiyong's sobbing intensified, dripping helplessness. Youngbae and Daesung were deeply shocked terror-stricken. But they didn't break down. Seunghyun was clever. He'd find a way to distract his captor from his detestable goals. They needed to concentrate on finding the man before it was too late.

“We need to take this to Hyunsuk-hyung,” Youngbae's declaration earned him two watery glances, while Daesung retrieved the disc from the player and carefully returned it to its case. His eyes were dry and serious.

“Let's go.”

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A/N

I feel like an awful person for writing this >.>  BUT I CAN'T HELP IT! I have a tendency of doing bad things to my biases.

This was inspired by a scene bluebracelet's Discord (which you should totally check out as it's amazing in its hotness) where Jiyong suggests Seunghyun wants to have whilst blindfolded. I got the image in my head of him being blindfolded, but added the mute and blind parts. And this was spawned! *crickets*

Anywho! There's gonna be a part 2, but I don't know when it'll be posted. When I finish it :3

Maybe